


In Immortal Lines

by MortalCity



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Domesticity, Episode Tag, F/M, Ficlet, Flash Fiction, Friendship, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Joanlock - Freeform, Overprotective Sherlock Holmes, Protective Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Being Sherlock, battle of wills, brownstone moments, post-episode, pun intended, season 6, sentimental Joan Watson, the visions of norman p. horowitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortalCity/pseuds/MortalCity
Summary: Joan is pretty sure she isn't going to die tomorrow.Sherlock is pretty sure she isn't going to die at all.-----Episode Tag for 6.18, "The Visions of Norman P. Horowitz."  Because what about The Last Will and Testament of Joan Watson?





	In Immortal Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the shortest piece I've ever written and posted, but...I wanted one more moment between them. Maybe you did, too. :)

 

 _Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade_  
_When in immortal lines to time thou grow’st_  
_So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see_  
_So long lives this, and this gives life to thee_

_\- William Shakespeare-_

 

* * *

 

_“There’s your inheritance, Watson.”_

* * *

 

 

She finds him in the study.

“What about your inheritance?”

Sherlock, folded into his favorite armchair, looks up in confusion from the tome in his lap—some thick, dusty book that appears to be written in French. His irritation is thinly veiled. “I believe I just explained to you the process by which I rid my accounts of those funds.”

“Not your inheritance from your father,” she clarifies, allowing the corners of her mouth to twitch ever so slightly upward. “Your inheritance from _me._ ”

His chest balloons with a long, silent inhalation.

“I mean, I don’t have a lot to my name,” she admits, “but I should probably draft a will.”

The skin around his lips is white. “Why?”

“Because the work we do is pretty dangerous sometimes,” she replies, sinking onto the arm of the red couch. “What if I die before you do?”

His eyes widen until the crystal blue of his irises is outlined in white. “Impossible.”

She rolls her eyes in fond exasperation. “Sherlock…”

He snaps the book shut. “If you die,” he enunciates cleanly and quietly, “I will bring you back to life.”

 _You already did_ , she wants to say, but doesn’t.

She hopes he knows.


End file.
